“Leigh got up before 4 this morning, as his train up the line left soon after that.  I got up at 6, and had breakfast.  My kit was taken down to the New Siding Station where I had to report at 7.50.  The place was, as usual, crowded with troops waiting to go up the line.  There was a train full of Portuguese troops in the siding.  I reported to the R.T.O.  He said ‘Get in officer’s coach marked C, and get out at Bethune.’  Then he suddenly discovered that my name was crossed out.  ’I’ve got your name crossed off here; I don’t think you are to go.  You had better stand by a few minutes while I telephone and find out,’ he remarked.  He then telephoned to Headquarters and, after about ten minutes, the reply came through:  ‘Not to proceed.’  There had been a mistake about the division or something.  Anyhow, I was ordered to return to camp.  So I told my man to take my kit back, and returned.  The others went up the line.  It is funny, isn’t it?  I am amused.  I take all these changes with equal equanimity.  I am quite agreeable whatever happens....  I know that whatever happens all will turn out right.  I shall arrive at the right place at the right time.  It is most interesting.  I expect you will be pleased at the delay!

“When I got back I saw the Adjutant and reported to him.  He was with the padre, an Irishman who was an officer in Carson’s Ulster Volunteer Force, at the time.  He was amused, and the padre said ‘Lucky man!’ So I have had a nice easy day, writing letters and strolling about....

“There are a whole crowd of Portuguese here now.  A large number marched up from the station, with band playing, this morning.  I find that the Portuguese troops pay more attention to saluting than do the French; I have received more salutes from Portuguese than from French; but I hear that the discipline of the Portuguese in the trenches is very bad indeed.

“I notice that it is announced in the paper to-day that a violent artillery bombardment is in progress between Ypres and the sea.  There you are—­that is the preliminary bombardment which always precedes a great battle in war of to-day.”

“June 3rd.

“I am still here, and have heard nothing further about going up the line.  The weather is still hot and fine—­summer at its best.  Yesterday evening I went down town as usual.  When I got back I found some Portuguese officers in the mess.  Everybody was talking French; it was amusing; but I soon disappeared to my tent.  Macdonald left this tent some days ago; Leigh went up the line; ——­ took the latter’s place:  so now there are just ——­ and I in Tent 12.  He returned slightly tight about 11, and talked a lot of stuff, telling me many stories of his lurid past!  He seems to have been a gay undergraduate at Jesus College, Oxford, seventeen years ago; he is now thirty-eight.  His home is in ——.  His two children live there.  He has a daughter fifteen and a son in the Cathedral choir.  Yet he himself is a Quaker!  And he is in the Army!  He was present at the Battle of the Marne.  He is a most quaint individual altogether.